


Perhaps It's Merely Curious

by nightmares_and_vials



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark Harry, M/M, Multi, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmares_and_vials/pseuds/nightmares_and_vials
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>7 years after young Harry Potter shook Draco Malfoy's hand, he is second-in-command and Lord Voldemort's most trusted servant. But when a charm goes wrong, he's sent back in time with his lover, Draco, and a few members of the rebels, the Order of the Phoenix. They must learn to overcome their differences to return home before the present crumbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally started as a contest entry on FF.net for DracoAdored but has since become my primary fanfiction. It is published on both and should be updated around the same time. I do not own Harry Potter in any way.

It may be true that if you imagine that your world is not out of the ordinary, or maybe if it truly is, you can go about life happily oblivious to the other side. It may also be true that the other side is much greater, as you may not be so bored then. Or, it may also be true that to one on the other side, they are ordinary and your side is not.  
Or, it may be true that these are all true statements depending on who you speak to. And it is certainly true that there are a million other truths and they are all valid to somebody.  
For Harry Potter, it's the third. You may know his story one way and that's your truth, but to him in this particular retelling, yours is odd and very much against his truth. And that's perfectly fine.  
In this truth, Harry Potter shook Draco Malfoy's hand that first day and joined what you may call 'the Dark Side'. To Harry, this is 'the Right Side', but that doesn't mean it's not dark. You see, this truth is very different from yours, so I must outline some very important details that this particular Potter finds boring and commonplace but in fact are not, if you so think so.  
Lord Voldemort came to power much quicker in this truth, and when he did, he laid down a few rules: one, every Death Eater must create at least one horcrux to prevent unnecessary and tiring deaths; two, the group must work in a pack formation to ensure security; and three, each Death Eater must be trained in bringing souls back via the horcruxes. These are the three basic rules, though there is also the Dark Lord's Code, a set of basic manners that is not necessarily important here.  
The Pack formation is very simple. Of course, Voldemort is the leader. Potter is the deputy, and therefore second-in-command. He reports to the leader and takes care of alliances when required. Next is Lucius Malfoy, who is the Command Officer. He gets his basic orders from Potter and figures out the best way to go about them. These orders are performed by the basic Death Eaters who report to the three in command. Then, of course, there are the civilians under Voldemort's rein, who only do what 'normal' townsfolk do. Their purpose, as Voldemort once said, is to keep the economy up and going.  
Of course, there are also the rebels. Yes, your truth is 'correct' here; the Order of the Phoenix is around. The formation's the same, only Harry is not there to help them, expectedly. However, they are doing fine, always searching for horcruxes and destroying them. Hermione Granger is a key part of the operation, acting as the main brains. Her leg is permanently disfigured however, bending backwards instead of forwards sometimes and sticking out at different weird angles all the time, but it has never stopped her.   
And there you have it; the world that will be the truth as you read. You should also know that Draco's parents took Harry in like a son, and that is where he is as this story begins. I do hope you stick around; there are many interesting characters to come, and before you begin, a word- this truth need never be repeated by you if you do not agree with it, or it with you.  
But please remember: you may find things odd in your life as they are so different from you, but perhaps they are not so strange. Perhaps they're merely curious, and perhaps you're merely curious to them too, in mutual curiosity that has potential to bring everyone together.


	2. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter. It was also pointed out on FF.net that the first time Harry and Draco met wasn't on the train and all that, it was at Madam Malkin's and they hated each other. In this story, Harry took a liking to Draco then, as he has a darker personality than in canon.

#  **|| I ||**

It was a lazy day at Malfoy Manor – at least, as lazy as it could be with the Dark Lord snarling orders at everyone as they yawned and dawdled. Harry Potter was one such person, lounging by the large fireplace with Draco Malfoy, drawing lazy swirls of light with his wand which would then fly after people and zap them. They talked quietly of the Order of the Phoenix and who would be executed from the Death Eaters next, gossiping and theorizing. Both had their usual mean expressions softened as they chatted, and for once, the others in the Manor could tell that they were a couple – usually they were too invested in the plans they needed to put into action but today, there was no talk of an attack. That wasn’t to say the guard of the Death Eaters was down, though, as Lord Voldemort was making sure of that.  
He approached the two now and their faces grew hardened again, looking at their leader as he grew nearer. Neither flinched at the “Potter! Malfoy! What are you two doing, lazing about?” that was barked, but rather looked calmly at him.   
“Just what you said, Tom, we’re ‘lazing about’,” Harry said, grinning slightly. Tom Riddle’s eyes slitted, making him resemble a snake even more, but he didn’t get angry – he was used to Harry’s sassiness.   
“Well, stop and strengthen that goddamn horcrux. We need to be ready for an attack at every moment.” With that he swished his cloak around and turned, marching towards another unlucky soul. Draco sighed, running a hand through his pale hair.  
“Why did he only ask you to strengthen your horcrux?” he muttered, looking at Harry under his eyelashes, then back down. Harry smirked and pushed his circular glasses up with his middle finger. “It’s not really a secret. I am his second-in-command, Malfoy.” Draco shrugged his shoulders and they both stood up, ready to go to their room where Harry’s horcrux was.  
As they walked down the long labyrinth of hallways and rooms, they continued talking. “You can’t keep it in our bedroom forever, Harry. It’s too obvious. Plus it’s out of place there, with all of the green and silver stuff. A dead blue bird sitting on a lamb with a crow behind it? It’s morbid, yeah, like everything else in this house but not in our room. I just think we should disguise it and move i-“ Draco was silenced by Harry jumping behind him and putting a hand over his mouth to silence him.   
“If you don’t shut up right now, Draco. I swear. It’s fine where it is right now, no one would ever make it to our room in a battle, would they? Don’t be a numbskull.” Draco jerked free of Harry’s grip and glared at him.  
“I’m not the numbskull here, Potter. You’re a dimwit, you’ve heard them talking, hell you’re a part of the conversations! We’re expecting a huge raid soon, and real soon. It’s too possible, considering they finally let us have a day off to rest up. If it happens today, no one is here and-“ This time Draco was pushed against a wall roughly, making him finally look into the other’s eyes. Harry’s nostrils flared, his nose ring suddenly more visible inside his nose.  
“It won’t be today. Our sources say-“ This time, Harry was silenced.  
“What if the sources are unreliable?” Draco challenged. Harry dug his nails into Malfoy’s shoulders, making the pale boy wince. “THE – SOURCES – ARE – OUR – BEST – BET!” he roared, letting go and turning on his heel to storm away in the direction of their bedroom. Draco stood for a moment where he was, realizing too late that a line had been crossed. He was only too lucky that his boyfriend hadn’t hexed him, but he hadn’t gotten that angry since... since one of the spies had been outed as a traitor. No wonder he’d gotten mad, Draco thought, it was still a touchy subject having only happened a month ago.  
He started in the direction of the room, which was only just at the end of the hall. He could hear Harry pacing angrily, the stomping knocking a few things loose. He flinched at the sound of a vase shattering and a string of curses from Harry, who evidently was not pleased. Draco stopped at the door and pushed it open slightly, looking for his boyfriend. The brunette was curled in a corner, silently fuming but tears pricking at his eyes. Draco nearly blanched but it had been his fault that Harry’s good mood had been destroyed, so he had to change it back.   
As he pushed open the door, a pillow was thrown at his face. Not that he was surprised, as Harry hated doing this – getting angry, that is – after he had accidentally broken Draco’s nose, and a pillow was much better than a vase. “Jeez, Harry, let me help. I’m sorry alright? I didn’t mean to remind you of Sirius, I was just thinking of what could happen, and...” he trailed off as Harry stood, his eyes blazing in anger and a slight bit of hurt.  
“Sirius is over and done with. I had trusted him too much because we were family, and I had hoped.. well, I’m not making that mistake anymore. They’ve all had background checks and I don’t know why you’re questioning me, Draco, don’t you trust me?” His voice, while angry, had an undertone of hurt just like his eyes did, and Draco felt an electrifying jolt of guilt hit his stomach like the swirls they were cheerfully drawing earlier. It was replaced by anger quickly, as he had been conditioned to do all his life.  
“I’m not questioning you, you idiot. I trust you, but I don’t trust any of those scoundrels who spend half of their time with the enemy. I don’t trust them after Sirius, Harry, I don’t trust them with an ounce of my being! If you can’t see that, you’re delusional, Potter.” His words were harsher than he had meant but they weren’t about to change; he meant them. Harry clenched his fists and gritted his teeth before whipping out his wand and pointing it at the blonde. Malfoy shook his head. “Seriously?” he muttered, but took his out too in case he needed to shield himself. Plus, Harry had always had a habit of losing control of his magic when he got angry, ever since they were children, and he wasn’t about to take any chances.  
Harry took a few steps toward Draco and they glared at each other, the latter a few inches taller so that he looked down. Harry, sensing the height difference and feeling intimidated by it, jumped onto the bed that protruded into the centre of the room and looked down at Draco. The blonde let out a gusty sigh and crossed his arms, slightly amused by the immature antics despite his anger.   
“Harry,” he murmured quietly. “Please believe me that I trust you. You have the right to be mad but believe that for me, please?” Harry glared down at him, not swayed, so Draco pressed on. “I didn’t mean to remind you of Sirius, trust me, okay? I didn’t know you were still so bothered by it, I apologize.” Harry put his hands on his hips, a sure sign that he was still pissed as hell.   
“It’s been a month, Draco,” he hissed, “how could I be over it yet? My only real family and he betrayed me like Pettigrew did my parents. Sirius Black, supposedly on our side, got me alone and Molly Weasley nearly killed me for attacking her precious children. My godfather almost killed me, Malfoy, I’m not about to forget it real quick and you should know that.” Draco was reminded of the nightmares that plagued Harry afterward until he himself convinced the Golden Boy to take a potion brewed by his Uncle Severus. Harry was right, how could he forget? Harry was slightly less angry now, but he still had his hands on his hips. Draco pursed his lips and tightened his arms over his chest.   
“What am I to you, Potter? Meat to fuck with and then discard? I am family, Harry, I have been since that first day at the robe shop, since you shook my hand and joined me in Slytherin. Stop obsessing over blood, Potter, even if it is pure-blooded for the most part. They’re all dead or traitors or both.” Harry’s eyes narrowed at Draco’s words and he leapt at him, knocking Draco’s balance off and landing on top of him, a growl in his voice.  
“Don’t insult my family, Malfoy, you don’t know what it’s like to not have a family. Your parents love you.” His breath was hot on Draco’s face, showing how close they were.  
“They love you too, for Merlin’s sake; you’re like a son to them!” Draco responded, quieter but just as fierce. Harry paused, thinking a moment, his green eyes ablaze.  
“They are like my parents, yeah, but their names aren’t James and Lily Potter.” Harry was set on this – blood was everything, not whether it was half or pure or mud, but his family, his roots, were important. It had always been that way for him, and Draco knew it.  
“James and Lily Potter were in the Order, Harry. They would have been our enemies.” Draco responded steadily. Harry suddenly shook in anger, his next words coming out in a jumble, almost unrecognizable.   
“I could have changed them! They would be on my side! I’d be everything to them and we’d have two more valuable warriors, I could h-“ Draco put his hand over Harry’s mouth as the door opened, silencing him. They could not see the intruder, being behind the bed. Footsteps neared them and a gasp came from above them just as Draco cursed and flung Harry off of him.  
It was none other than Draco’s father, Lucius Malfoy.  
They both sat up and stuffed their wands away, stepping apart and glancing awkwardly at each other, the anger and intensity fading as awkwardness took over. Lucius stared at them, holding two flasks with another tucked into his belt. None of them spoke for a few instants, just stared at each other or around the room, not wanting to acknowledge what Draco’s father thought he had just seen. He seemed to recover quickly, however, as he cleared his throat and held out the two flasks to them which they gladly took, wanting to change the topic to whatever silver substance resided in the vials.  
Lucius retrieved his own flask, fumbling slightly, before taking a small sip from it, shuddering at the taste. The silver substance moved slowly, thick as molasses it seemed, but lustrous as a metal like nickel or silver itself. It turned slightly darker and less lustrous as it touched the drinker’s lips, but as he lowered it, it changed back to its shiny, silver state. Harry and Draco watched on, slightly nervous as they slowly realized the contents of the vial.  
“Father, is that... unicorn blood?” Draco asked, slightly apprehensive. “Harry, you remember when we went into the Forbidden Forest when we were eleven, and Quirrell had slain one, and the blood was everywhere... is it?” Before Harry could react, Lucius nodded, looking nervous at the thought as well. “Father, what about the cursed, half-life the textbooks and myths speak of?” Draco demanded, staring at the blood in his hand and swirling it about.   
“The Dark Lord seems to think it’s a good idea. His researchers have determined that if drank at least twice daily, unicorn blood will create a protection against death. As for the curse, it’s merely a myth created by the old Magical Humane Society of Europe to stop the endangerment of unicorns. That was, of course, in 1209, so there are enough now. The main fighters of the DE are on that today, off orders, in an attempt to impress the Dark Lord. So take a sip of that at 9 in the morning and 9 at night, approximately. And right now, of course.” With that, and accompanied by a nervous smile, Lucius Malfoy exited the room and left the couple alone once more.   
The two seemed to consider this for a moment before looking at each other, uncorking the vials together and taking a sip. Strangely, as thick as it seemed, it felt light and thin as it went down their throats, warming them from the inside and cooling them down right after, a strange sensation to them. It tasted slightly like vanilla but besides that, there was barely any taste at all. Draco closed his eyes, feeling it as it flowed through his system, straight through him quickly until it rested in his bladder and the sensation faded all together. He glanced at Harry, who was staring at the vial in his hand, clearly perplexed by the feeling. He looked back at Draco and they made eye contact for a few moments.  
“Not as bad as I thought at eleven. You?” Harry broke the silence and Draco started, before smirking.   
“You thought skipping transfiguration once to finish an essay, with teacher’s consent, was bad at eleven, Potter. I’m not surprised.” Harry’s mouth opened and he had an indignant look on his face for a mere moment before Draco continued, “but no, it wasn’t as bad as I would have thought, either.” Potter still looked like he was going to protest at Draco’s comment, but a scream and a few following yells stopped him. There was a great bang and the sound of spells in the distance reached them, before they heard Lucius yelling for them, that there was an attack, they had to fight with the strength of two men because everyone was gone.  
Draco just had to be right the one time it really mattered, huh? He sighed to himself before gesturing to Harry to follow. They went to go, however, a thump stopped the blonde and he turned to see Harry sprawled on the ground, his foot having gotten caught under the rug and catching as he went to run. He sprang up instantly, muttering nonsense about how bullshit it was that unicorn blood really held no curse. There was no time to dwell, however, and the two ran out, swerving through the halls blindly, corner after corner and statues flashing by and suits of armor flashing at them. As they came to the entrance hall, a shot of red light flew by Harry’s head, an Expelliarmus spell gone fly. They ran opposite ways into the thick of the wizards and witches, throwing spells at the enemies while looking around for someone to fight. Draco was unaware of Harry’s situation, but could see more Order of the Phoenix members than Death Eaters. He was soon locked in battle with Percy Weasley, unaware to his boyfriend’s whereabouts.  
Harry had frozen as he looked around, Draco now out of his sight and another man in it. Sirius Black, his godfather, had blocked his path and now pointed his wand towards the younger’s throat. Harry’s mouth and throat dried up, the unicorn blood long forgotten. The battle faded away and all he saw was the glint in his father’s best friend’s eyes, the burning hatred showing through. Harry’s legs were frozen as the other walked slowly, deliberately toward him, clearly unaware of the hurt that was boiling inside of his godson. Disowned godson, yes, but godson all the same. Harry could see his lips moving, but the seemingly millions of voices echoing made it impossible to hear him until he could feel the warm tip of Sirius’s wand on his jugular vein, and he suddenly wished he still couldn’t hear him.  
“You filthy Death Eater. Lily and James would be so ashamed to have you as their son, they wouldn’t want you. I should have killed you when I had the chance to, you imbecile, I’m going to kill you right now. You’re such a disgrace to wizardkind, and now you’ll die because of it.” Harry was glad he hadn’t heard what he was saying before, because it was probably a million times worse than that and hearing it was bad enough; he didn’t like to think his parents would hate him. It didn’t fit with what he knew of them, which was that they loved and were loved. The hurt was quickly replaced with anger and he suddenly slashed with his wand, slicing open his godfather with an internal sectumsempra! He slashed again and again, missing most times, but enough that the older man could barely stand. He saw a few flashes of light and the wounds disappeared, leaving Sirius Black panting but not in danger of death. Another hot flash of anger filled Harry. Those bastards, they’ve got Healers waiting outside to heal immediately. We don’t stand a chance! Harry groaned and continued his slashing but through magic, Sirius didn’t really get hurt at all. Instead he hit him with a strong red flash and Harry went flying through the air before hitting a wall, coughing and sore, but still conscious. This had happened before to him, mostly in Death Eater training, so he had had time to move in midair to prevent maximum damage. He faked grave injury as Sirius was still looking on, watching for any sign of life that would compel him to finish Harry off. Instead, Harry looked around with slitted eyes.  
The only Death Eaters there were Lucius, Bellatrix, Draco, and him. The other three looked one hundred percent exhausted but fought on, not having a choice. Voldemort would be hidden away safe from harm for the time being, but no doubt he was watching. They risked death from both sides, and the best option was not at the hands of the torture-loving Dark Lord, so they had to keep fighting. Harry glanced around again. Besides Sirius, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Remus Lupin, Percy Weasley, and Neville Longbottom were there. The fight was on, the Death Eaters were deathly outnumbered, and Harry was the only one who could do anything.  
A quick muttered Body-Binding Spell left Sirius in a temporary mess on the ground, but he would soon recover with help from a Healer. Harry had approximately five seconds to escape, a five second head start, and he was going to use it. As soon as the spell was uttered and his godfather began to fall deadweight back, Harry was on his feet and running. He had a fireplace in his bedroom, and it would be safest right then, he determined, thinking as he made his way through the jumble of people and into the hallway. He made his way through the maze once again, but this time there were multiple footsteps stomping behind him; he was being pursued. He willed himself to move faster, knowing that one set could be Draco, but there was a larger possibility that most belonged to members of the Order. He could not, would not be caught, and couldn’t afford to be. As his door came into sight, he allowed himself a glance back; thankfully, the one closest was Draco, a determined look on his face. The others were at least 30 feet behind, they could make it, they would because they had to. He came to the door quickly, blasting it open with a quick wave of his wand and sprinting through before spinning around and, as soon as Draco was through, slammed it and set a charm on it to prevent them from getting in. It was weak, however, so Draco threw his body against the door and yelled at Harry to hurry, hurry, they can’t get in, and Harry threw Floo Powder into the fire and demanded all Death Eaters, stuck his head in and his head appeared in a mini fireplace on a string to all of the Dark wizards who came back. The pops reached Draco and he cast a little spell to strengthen the lock again as the members of the Order pounded on the door, but ignoring it, he ran to Harry to channel the spell he was now casting.  
The object of the casting was strange, and as Draco had said earlier, also seemed out of place. It was old, very old, the priced taxidermy piece of an ancient wizard Harry had killed – or, put out of his misery – when he was 16, when Voldemort deemed him ready to become a full-fledged Eater. It was a morbid piece, a lamb decorated in black Victorian lace and given a unicorn horn that didn’t seem to fit, exactly, and which had some sort of hanging decorations. It had glassy black eyes, obviously fake and not its original eyes magicked to last as usual magical taxidermists did, and its mouth slightly open in a terrified expression. It sat on what looked like a carriage, perhaps something like the lunch trolley on the Hogwarts Express, on top of black fluff and caressed by skeleton arms. On its rump sat a turquoise chick with the same black lace covering its head. Sitting behind the lamb was a crow, just a normal crow, with its beak slightly open. On top of the tall handles of the carriage protruded a black tree branch decorated with blood red roses, extending just an inch or two from the tip of the lace horn. Below the lamb, on the bars which the wheels would connect, were two stretched foxes, one on either side. And on the wheels, a decorative feature to enhance to morbidity, a skull and crossbones stuck out from the middles.  
It would need to be hidden, but that would likely be impossible in the short time they had. Instead, Harry muttered the protection spell, over and over as black swirls of light surrounded the lamb as directed by Draco. He pushed the dark strings with his wand until they seemed entwined around it, and as he was about to suggest shrinking it, the door began to give way, Harry paused in his casting, Draco dropped his wand hand to rest on the taxidermy piece, and the wood gave way. In ran Granger, Weasley R, and Brown, all panting from the effort. They whipped their wands toward the duo and as they opened their mouths to shout a curse of some kind, there was a bright light and suddenly, they were all gone.


	3. II

#  **| | II | |**

_Harry muttered the protection spell, over and over as black swirls of light surrounded the lamb as directed by Draco. He pushed the dark strings with his wand until they seemed entwined around it, and as he was about to suggest shrinking it, the door began to give way, Harry paused in his casting, Draco dropped his wand hand to rest on the taxidermy piece, and the wood gave way. In ran Granger, Weasley R, and Brown, all panting from the effort. They whipped their wands toward the duo and as they opened their mouths to shout a curse of some kind, there was a bright light and suddenly, they were all gone._

To an outsider walking into the room right after, there was complete silence in the room and no way for the five to have disappeared; this was, in fact, the case for Sirius Black, who had followed to try to kill Harry once again. He stood there, shocked and confused, until Lucius ran in and yelled a spell, casting green light towards the animagus. The battle continued, and far away – or rather, long ago – the case was similar.

The flash of light was replaced by distorted and flashing images of the manor being built, old houses ready for demolition, a small street with small houses, and countrysides, and then there was only darkness as the young adults landed on pavement with a thump. They all groaned and rolled around for a second, testing limbs for injury, but none of them were hurt. This lasted only seconds before the enemies made eye contact, reached for their wands, and looked around discreetly for any muggles; when there were none, all five leapt up and began shooting curses and hexes at one another; green and red light was shot around, but all missed, instead hitting plants and buildings which merely fizzled and released smoke. One tree in a pot unlucky enough to get hit by Draco’s curse bent over itself and instantly died.

The curses flew for a few minutes before the casters grew tired. First Lavender collapsed behind the now-dead tree, and then Harry hid behind a dumpster to catch his breath. Next Hermione ducked under stairs, Stunning a few hungry rodents, and only Draco and Ron were left. Catching each other’s eye, they soon came to a truce for the time being and quit the battle.

Soon the five sat together, panting. Draco soon began ranting, mostly to end the awkward silence that was sure to come, after they had all tried to kill each other. “Father would kill me if he knew I was sitting with a mudblood, a blood traitor, and... whoever you are,” he jabbed a finger at Lavender, “without trying to curse them. Count yourself lucky he isn’t here.” Lavender sighed and flopped backwards to lean against the stone wall. Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione, who merely shrugged.

The group sat in two groups; the Death Eaters and the Order. They sat a few yards apart, and kept glancing to the other as if unsure if they would start the attack all over. Neither group would, however, because there were more pressing matters at hand.

When Draco stopped talking, Harry began. “I don’t know if you guys have noticed, but we’ve completely traveled through time and-or space. And we’re in an alleyway; doesn’t that seem, I don’t know, strange?” Draco shrugged this time and leaned back, closing his eyes. Ron, unlikely as it was, answered instead.

“It looks like we’re in some old town.” He seemed to be right. A carriage rolled by on a street nearby, the clopping of the horses hooves echoing through the small alley where they sat. Cigar smoke wafted through the air, thanks to a professional, detective-looking man who had just strolled by. They could barely see a few women in long dresses and bonnets walking together, holding baskets of fresh vegetables and bread for that night’s supper. It seemed to be the perfect old timey town, but also an unforgiving one if any magic was found.

“I’m hungry,” said Lavender, watching the women stroll past. Hermione, too, was watching the women, but with a look of awe and horror on her face.

“We’ve gone very far back in time. Lav, those women have no rights yet – they can’t vote or anything! Oh, we do need to change, or we’ll be hunted down and killed for being witches.” The others exchanged eye contact before looking back at her.

“Herm, we wrote a paper on that in school. We could easily escape death, I mean, look at that one who let herself get caught a bunch of times... the Weird one,” Ron told her, but he still looked rather scared.

“Wendelin the Weird,” Draco supplied, and they all looked at him, causing him to flush. “The Salem Witch Trials always intrigued me,” he muttered, looking down at his shoes. Hermione was the first to recover, whipping out a strange bag and sticking her whole arm in it even though it looked way too small for it. She fumbled around it in a few moments before cursing and whispering a spell, and a few garments flew out. She caught them easily; a water bottle and a few overcoats. The overcoats were very long, covering the females’ ankles and to the males’ knees, thanks to some wandwork from Draco. They removed the robes they had on and gave them to Hermione, who somehow stuffed them all into her bag.

They passed around the water bottle before leaving the alley. The sky was slightly overcast and there was a slight chill in the air now that they were in the open, letting the soft breeze wrap around them.

“So where are we, Eaters,” muttered Lavender, looking towards Draco and Harry, not without a grimace. Harry gripped the wand in his inside pocket, gritting his teeth, hating that they were stuck with the Order of the Phoenix. Draco was right; Lucius would have a fit if he saw them now. Draco however, seemed unbothered and quite eager to answer her question.

“We’re in the past! See, you threatened Harry’s horcrux when you ran into the room with your wands and it felt threatened so it transported us all back in time. We Eaters cleverly invented it ourselves.” Perhaps he wasn’t all that unbothered after all, thought Harry, noting the tone in his partner’s voice when he said Eaters. 

Suddenly Draco stopped in his tracks and spun around to grasp Harry’s head, leaning in to hiss in his ear, “Where is it? Where’s the horcrux now? It should be here, right?” Harry put a finger to Draco’s pale lips and smirked.

“Relax, Malfoy, it’s in my pocket. I shrunk it while you fought Weasley.” Draco released a breath and nodded, turning to continue walking. Harry quickened his pace to keep up, but slipped on a wet patch of cobblestone and collapsed onto the pavement in front of him. His face hit the hard ground with a smack, as well as a very clear crunch; his nose had broken.

Harry groaned and grasped his nose, feeling the warm, sticky consistency of blood. The air gained a metallic tang to the crisp scent, and the pavement now had an ever-growing puddle of thick red fluid. “Fucking unicorn blood, making me clumsy,” Harry muttered, wincing as he touched his face. There was suddenly a presence in front of him, muttering a few curses and glancing around.

Draco shook his head darkly at Harry, who was much too distracted by the pain to notice. “Training for the ballet, Potter?” he whispered, winking at Harry, remembering their flying around as children. Harry let out a snort of laughter before whimpering quietly. Draco sighed again and muttered, “Episkey!” There was another crack as Harry’s nose fixed itself, releasing one last jet of blood. Harry felt the newly-fixed nose, and when there was no pain, he smiled at Draco.

“Thanks, Malf- Draco. Scourgify,” Harry murmured, lifting the blood and disposing of it. The two stood up to see the three members of the Order awkwardly watching and four adults rushing up to them. A monkey-like man with a thin, scraggly white beard wearing green rushed ahead of the others before grasping Harry’s collar to growl at him. 

“Salazar, put him down! For Merlin’s sake, control yourself,” muttered the woman in the long yellow dress, tapping on the man’s hand with short bare nails, causing him to release. She nudged him softly out of the way to look at the younger ones, glancing around. Her gaze did not linger on the lightning bolt scar. Instead, she looked at Ron.

“A Weasley? Goodness, you really are travelling, aren’t you? Soon there’ll be Weasleys all over Europe!” She grinned and curtsied politely to them, which Hermione and Lavender returned, although they weren’t sure whether they should or not. Either way, the woman was pleased. 

“My name is Helga Hufflepuff. This rude man is Salazar Slytherin. My friends here,” she gestured to a strict-looking black-haired woman wearing a blue dress and a burly red-bearded man in red, “are Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Griffindor. And right now we’re working on creating a school of witchcraft and wizardry, so I hope you’ll send your children there!” She grinned wider and the burly man, Griffindor, laughed. 

“Gotta get news out somehow, eh, Helga,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “Lucky thing we made sure ya were really magic before we unleashed Hufflepuff on ya. Anyhow, you don’t want to use that magic ‘round here, these muggles‘re hell. Hey, why don’ you come by my house, rest up, ‘s gettin’ late. Ya can tell us all ‘bout that fall o’ yours, hey?” He gestured to them without waiting for an answer, and the founders all turned to walk towards a large house down the lane.

The travellers watched, stunned, as they watched some of the most important figures in history walk together. Harry suddenly realized where they were; Godric’s Hollow, before it was named after the man they had just spoken to. This was the place he was born before it was even the place he was born, and that blew his mind. He also knew that he couldn’t keep the horcrux in his pocket; it would grow back soon, due to his quick and messy spell. 

The trio walked forward, and Harry waved them off; Draco, however, stayed. He looked curiously at the raven-haired man, his pointed face twisted into confusion. Harry, loud enough for the trio to hear, said, “I think I left something in the alley, I’ll be there soon. It must have fallen out of my pocket.” The trio looked back and nodded, but didn’t pay much attention, instead following the founders as if starstruck. Harry motioned with his head at Draco back to the alley before rushing away, much more careful this time.

As they entered the alley, Harry grabbed out the horcrux and held it in his hand, pointed his wand and it, and muttered a spell. It grew back into its normal size, which Harry and Draco lowered evenly to the ground. Draco grabbed Harry’s arm before he could continue, pinning him against the wall. 

“What’re you doing, Harry,” he murmured, resting their foreheads together. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Draco silenced him by smashing their mouths together and rocking his hips forward. Harry gasped and responded with enthusiasm, and soon they were a strange mess of tongue and hands all over. Draco ran his slender fingers through Harry’s messy locks, before lowering one hand to his hip. 

“I think the real question is what you’re doing, Malfoy,” Harry muttered as best he could as Draco lowered his mouth to his neck to kiss softly. He groaned quietly, relishing it as best he could in a dark, cold alley that was quickly darkening. “I, for one, need to hide the horcrux so that nobody can steal it as we sleep.” Draco rose his head, a dark need reflected in his eyes.

“We’re in a society where this isn’t allowed, Potter. I don’t know when we’ll be able to do this again, especially with those three lurking about. Come on, we’ll be quick.” Harry soon gave in and they moved farther back to enjoy each other’s company one last time for a while, and quick they were.

***

Draco knocked three times with the brass lion-shaped knocker on the huge front door of Griffindor’s house. It was a large, brick home, or perhaps limestone magicked to look like brick; gray showed through in some spots. The door and window frames were seemingly cherrywood, and the roof was an ordinary slanted black roof. Each window boasted black shutters and flowers, and the lawn was neatly trimmed with flowerbeds bordering the house, possibly the work of Helga from what they knew of her. It appeared to have many rooms, but it was impossible to tell from outside. 

Harry attempted one last time to fix his tousled hair, but to no avail; Draco, too, was having trouble re-taming his usually perfect strands. They gazed at each other, still basking in the afterglow, when the door flew open and Godric Griffindor himself interrupted. He grinned widely and ushered them in, seating them at a large mahogany table where the other already sat, stuffing their faces. Harry and Draco sat next to each other next to Hermione, who was the only one eating gracefully, shooting glares of disgust at Lavender and Ron. 

A bowl of steaming stew was placed in front of each of them, smelling amazing. As the two began, they realized that it didn’t only smell amazing, it was amazing. It was hearty, with tender beef, small chunks of potato, and chopped up carrot. The gravy broth was seemingly from scratch and was better than any stew they had had before. 

Soon all of the bowls were empty, and the founders, sitting at the other end of the table with Godric at the head, chuckled to themselves. This time, Ravenclaw spoke.  
“Good, isn’t it? That’s Helga’s special recipe, she makes the best food of any of us. That’s probably due to her wit in herbology, hm, dear?” Helga and Rowena smiled at each other and Helga nodded.

“It’s my family’s recipe, but it’ll be served at our school for sure!” The five travellers looked at each other uneasily; the house elves certainly didn’t make the stew at Hogwarts to the full potential, which was disappointing, really. It would probably break Helga’s heart to hear that.

“So, what’re yer names, young uns?” Godric boomed as he stood to retrieve bottles of alcoholic Butterbeer from a cooling cabinet. He took out a few frosted glass mugs as well, pouring the drinks into them before grabbing two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. He Wingardium Leviosa’d it all to the table, the wine to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and Butterbeer to the others. 

Harry cleared his throat and pointed to each person as he named them, respectively, “I’m Harry Potter, and this is Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Lavender Brown, and Ron Weasley. We’re travellers, see, and we’ve been lost for ages... where are we, may I ask?”

Godric took a large swig of his drink before answering. “Yer in Mellington, boy. Potter and Malfoy, eh? The Potter’s ‘re just here in town, an old family fer sure. You related?” Harry’s mouth suddenly went dry. His family, here? He could meet them? Not that it would do much good, in his position, but...

Godric cleared his throat, forcing Harry out of his thoughts. “Oh, er, yes. I’m a distant cousin, see, left to see the world and travel. Back now, though,” he said nervously. Would Griffindor be able to tell he was lying? But if he could he didn’t show it, just took another swig, and the others followed suit.

They stayed up a bit longer, talking about the future Hogwarts (not that it was named yet, though Hermione suggested the name) and the journey, which they couldn’t tell much about. Soon they split up and the men all went to one chamber and the women to another. Draco and Harry snuck into the same bed eventually and vowed that they’d figure out the predicament in the morning, when they’d had time to think. 

And taking a swig each of unicorn blood once Ron had fallen asleep, the couple turned in for the night, unsure but certain that they’d get home.


End file.
